The Cat Scare Revisited

I was watching the movie "Wolfen" last weekend with Fretty and Trey. It was a pretty damn good movie, but there was something missing I couldn't quite figure out. Then, as the protagonist stuck her head out the window to investigate a noise, a cat comes flying into her face and scares the shit out of her. Ah-Ha! The cat scare! Now this movie was bumped from good to great in a matter of one scene.

I saw Trey physically jump about 6 inches in the air. Trey, not being conditioned to such horror movie tactics, fell victim to one of the most common scenes in horror movie history.

I figured, in an homage to the cat scare, I'd re-post my original piece on the subject.


Wednesday, March 22, 2006

The Cat Scare

I've noticed, over my many years of horror movie viewing, that there is a recurring theme in every good horror film... the cat scare.What is the cat scare? It is a suspense technique used to give the audience a thrill, followed by a sense of relief, and typically followed by somebody getting killed or chased by a killer. Still unclear? This is how a typical cat scare will go.

Enter victim to dark room, stage left mostly.

Victim: "Hello? Is anybody in here?"

a noise in the corner startles him/her

V: "Is that you, Brad? This isn't funny!"

a noise from the closet prompts him/her to investigate

V: "Brad your such a jerk, if your trying to scare me I'm going to kill you."

he/she timidly opens the closet door (suspenseful music plays)

cat dives out of the closet

Cat: RRRRRAAARRRR!
V: "HOLY SHIT!!!! Whiskers! You scared me!"

At this point the audience is kicking themselves for being such pussies (no pun intended) and jumping at a damn cat flying out of the closet.After the initial thrill is over and just about the time the audience is feeling safe again, the killer emerges and makes everyone shit their pants.

There are, however, some instances where the cat scare is overused.The first "Alien" movie uses three cat scares in a matter of five minutes. Seriously? It's a big stretch to use two in an entire movie. But three in five minutes? Lets get real Ridley Scott.

Posted by Shep at 7:37 AM

T.O. Uses Big Words, Still Sounds Stupid

I watched an interview of T.O. on the NFL Network after their training camp special yesterday. I love the NFL Network. It is nothing but football and football related shows, which is all I really give a shit about. The training camp special on the Cowboys was great, it was very in depth and informative. However, the after-practice interview of Owens revealed what a fool he truly is. They were really kissing his ass, which is what you have to do, I guess, to get some face time with the mega star. Questions were asked regarding the new coach and T.O. would begin every answer with "obviously this," or "obviously that." Is it really obvious that Wade Phillips respects your talent? I would be led to believe he thinks you're overrated since you had the most dropped passes in the NFL last season. They proceeded with a question over his media coverage and what he learned in the off-season about some of his mistakes. He answered somewhere along the lines of "well, it's obvious I had alot of time to reflect in the off-season. I had some epiphanies and some realizations while I was cogitating over the things that I exposed myself to during the season, and I think I've grown-up a little and gone through a maturation process." My ass you have. If he had any "epiphanies" he would realize what an idiot he is and commit to bettering himself as a player and as a teammate, not to say he hasn't, but it'll be a cold day in hell before I believe that load of bullshit. And as for this "maturation process" he's supposedly gone through, he's been in the league 13 or 14 years and I'll be willing to bet his habits are set in stone. He might go along with it for a short while, but if he notices a drop in the amount of passes he's seeing, you can bet the old bitchy T.O. will come back in a heartbeat. I don't understand why all these thugs try to use big words when they talk to the media. Do they think they can pass themselves off as educated individuals? I guarantee you they hear this stuff from their lawyers and try to pass it off as their own. It makes them sound dumber than they really are. Instead of saying, "Well you know, I was consortin' wit some of my associates" why not just speak normally and say, "Yeah, I was hanging out in a strip club with my boys when I fired a gun at some guy when he started talking shit."

David the Gnome

A while back I did an entry on "Kick-Ass Shows You May Have Forgotten" Well here is the opening for "David the Gnome" a kick-ass show I actually forgot about. But, as I did a little reading, I found out David was an ageing hippie vegan. The story taught children to not eat meat and to respect the planet we live on. I don't know what kind of effect this had on me seeing as how I eat more red meat then 90% of Americans and annually shoot 4 to 5 mammals and countess dove and quail. Nice try hippies.

Also, hippies can't spell. Check the title of this episode..."Good Medecine?" Did they mean Medicine? Unbelievable.

Kurt's Wedding

I'm finally getting around to writing this story, I was trying to remember all the funny stuff that happened so I wouldn't leave anything out.

I'll begin on Friday morning. Edgar and I had slept in Dallas at Trey, Fretty, and Burge's the night before. It was easier to drive up to Dallas a couple nights before, rather than leaving from Belton and enduring an extra two hours on the road. We met Justin in the parking lot and set off. The trip up to Missouri was pretty painful. We drove all the way through Oklahoma which had absolutely nothing to look at the entire time we were there. Just when I thought a state could not be more boring than the four hours we spent in Oklahoma, we arrived in Kansas. Kansas is a truly desolate place. It's a flat, yellow, plane occasionally scattered with small towns occupied by one gas station and a McDonald's. I was glad I had replaced my iPod before the trip, because I don't know what I would have done with myself for eight hours had I not brought some kick-ass tunes along.

We arrived in Overland Park not a minute too soon. Farrell had reserved a room for the four of us at the Garden Inn. The only problem was, Farrell took a plane like a puss and was not going to be at the hotel for a couple hours. My mind quickly went into espionage mode and decided the only course of action was to try and pass myself off as Big Steve Farrell. I stepped up to the front desk and told them I was Steven Farrell, and I was ready to check in. The guy I was talking to was some kind of Asian. I am not trying to be an ass, but I could not understand a word that guy said. He asked me some question that sounded like " ahru ah rewoo-da crub membah?" I asked him three times what he said and I finally looked at the woman he was working with and shrugged my shoulders. She asked, " are you a rewards club member?" I said no. I began thinking to myself, "why would a guy work in a services position who can't speak audible English, and thus not be able to perform said services?" It still befuddles me.

We checked into the room and killed a little time before it was time to get ready for the wedding. We met up with Beerman and Carrie to carpool to the ceremony. It was a little early and we still had some time before the wedding began, so we unanimously voted to go to a sports bar down from the church and grab a quick drink. Afterwards, we headed to the church.

The ceremony was in a very quaint little church in Kansas City. It was short and sweet which was nice, because it was a little warm in the sanctuary.

The reception was at a country club with a converted barn where the reception was held. It was a very nice location, plenty of room, A/C on high, a big dance floor, and all the other amenities you could ask for. I made a beeline for the booze, not because I am a hapless drunk who only goes to weddings for one reason, but I was dehydrated from the sauna that was the Kansas City First Baptist Church. I had drank a 'Boulevard Wheat' at the sports bar we went to before the wedding and had thought it was one of the best beers I had every had. I found, to my surprise, they had the same beer on tap and in bottles at the reception. It wasn't long before I was a little tipsy and taking multiple cigarette breaks to the patio. The food they served was off the charts. It was one of my favorite spreads, barbeque, homemade fried chicken, salad, potatoes, every good food you can imagine. It all sat very well with the Boulevard Wheat.

The night went on and I had been drinking beer at an astonishing rate. A crowd was gathering on the dance floor, and I decided to investigate. I could see Hederman from a distance really getting after it. He was bobbing and weaving, scooting and sliding, really putting on a show. I'm pretty sure everyone there was loving it, everyone except his wife. Anna tried on several occasions to walk off the floor and leave Will to his chicken dance. However, whenever she tried to leave, he'd dance his way toward her and cut her off from leaving. She'd come back and dance a little while longer and try to leave again and Hederman would set a boogie-screen. It was like seeing a good sheep dog at work.

The thing I probably liked seeing the most was that Kurt was actually drunk at his own wedding. You go to these weddings and get shitfaced, then you see the groom and he's stone cold sober. It kind of make me feel bed, but not bad enough to change my behavior. Kurt was having just as much fun as anybody else probably more, which is how it should be. I know I'll be the drunkest guy at my wedding... fact.

I had sat down at a table and was talking to Will Johnson and his wife Erica, when I was approached by Balla with a proposition. He said there was a guy there that wanted to race me in a beer chug competition. Balla said he was a linebacker for Kansas State and that he could and would probably beat me. I asked who he was and Balla pointed him out to me. I gave him the point and the "I've got my eyes on you" motion. I got a new beer and walked over to the guy who immediately asked if I had a Miller Lite or a wheat beer. I actually had a lite beer, and he said it wasn't fair and I should get a wheat beer like him. I agreed and got a wheat beer and Balla started the countdown. I felt it wasn't my best chug, but it was good enough to beat this guy. After we finished, he looked like a somebody just sucker-punched him. I gave him a tip of my imaginary hat and went on about my business.

They began to clear people out of the reception because it was getting late and the beer had run out. We stood in a line and wished Kurt and Jen farewell, then headed to the bar.

I was toasty by the time we arrived at Paddy O'Brian's. I went to the bar and ordered another Boulevard Wheat. I stood at the bar a little while and surveyed the layout. Trey had procured a table in the corner of the bar and I headed over there. Edgar was there and in a rare form. He was drunker than a twenty year old girl on spring break. He had found a spot next to Ruthie and was putting his moves on her. I was watching while telling Barry's girlfriend to watch the show as well. I explained to her the finer points of Edgar's approach, and how the lack of subtlety is a turn on for women. I watched as long as I could before Ruthie asked of she could change places with somebody. It was a pretty big bitch move. Anyway, the bar was about to close so we stood up and got ready to leave. Edgar was leaning up against the wall hocking loogies on the floor. A bouncer saw him and looked at me and gave me the "what the hell is going on?" look. I shot the same look back at him. and he stood up and told me we had to "get this guy (Edgar) outta here...now." We did and headed back to the hotel.

We woke up the next morning and spent about an hour looking for a Shell station so I could fill up my truck before heading home. It was an ordeal in itself. When we were heading back to the highway we finally saw it right by where we exited. The trip home was damn near unbearable and Justin had left a fucking pile of trash in my backseat, but all in all it was an enjoyable trip.

Dwight Schrute Music Video

"Day or night,
He'll use his might,
to fight for right,
and hit the height,
and light the light,
and be polite,
He's out of sight!

DWIGHT DWIGHT DWIGHT DWIGHT..."

The Shittiest Music Video Ever

This is a music video from Baltimora's catalog of hit(s?). It probably took a half hour to shoot this entire thing, add a couple effects and you're done. Also, the lead singers moves are terribly gay. But a good way to start a Friday.

The Greatest Guitarist

I ran across this video the other day while looking for the Toto music video. This guy's name is Andy McKee and he is a phenominal guitarist. If you want to see another great song he does, check YouTube under "Drifting." I just thought everybody might get a kick out of how good this guy is.

Something Funny

I found this and laughed and laughed when I first saw it... I just thought I'd share.

Man Vs. Child

Every seemingly good idea I have is somehow already taken. I once had an idea for a website called "College Stories" .com, it was going to be a place where people could go to tell their best stories. Face it, those stories are the best. So as I was checking availability of the domain name, I discovered that somebody had already done it. Complete with a book release of some of the best stories.

You can see why I would be discouraged when my "Man vs. Child " idea was already taken. Granted my premise is waaaay better than this guy's, but I was hoping to get a copyright on the name. This chump's man vs. child is him being alone with his kid, chasing him around the house and cleaning shit up....woo-hoo. Give me Rob Schneider fighting some kids so the I.R.S. doesn't repossess his house...seeing as how the Deuce Bigalow money has dried up. Another twist is that when he goes to meet with the I.R.S. to discuss his progress and to show them he's trying to get the money, the wrestler "I.R.S." will be there to bust him on the head with his briefcase. I'm telling you, this show would be big.

"You're late Rob!"

Bear Grylls A Fraud

For those of you who don't know who Bear Grylls is, he is the host of the Discovery Channel's "Man vs. Wild." Every week Bear is put in a seeminly impossible situation and, by sheer wit and determination, somehow makes it out. He must make shelter every night and find enough food to sustain himself over the period he is stranded. However, it has come to light that many of the show's scenes are rigged. He is actually not surviving on his own, but rather is aided along the way by a host of crewmen. In scenes where he is camping out in the woods or on the prarie, he only films a couple minutes and heads back for the hotel.



I, for one, am pissed that some idiot brought this to light. We all had a thought in the back of our mind that the show was not as truthful as is claimed to be, but so what. I was intrigued by Bear's knowledge of the outdoors and his ability to survive in nature's most violent circumstances. Who would know what kind of alge decontaminates groundwater, or how you can get water from an elephant turd? Bear did...dammitt.

If the show ends up getting canceled (which I din't know why it would) I have an idea for a new reality show that would be low on cost and high on hilarity.

It's called "Man vs. Child" and it pits Rob Schnieder against middle-school bullies. The premise is Rob visiting different junior highs and challenging the biggest kids there. The great thing about this show is you never know who is really going to win. The season finale would be Schnieder doing the American Gladiator course with the same kids he fought throughout the season as gladiators. He could face Dustin Diamond or somebody equally worthless. It would be a hit.

Deep Thoughts...not quite.

I was talking with Romines today on the Gmail messenger. He has started putting Jack Handey quotes on his custom message on his profile. I have enjoyed reading them the past couple days and asked where he found them all. He sent me a link and i followed it to a page full of Jack Handey quotes. I only read down a little ways before I found one that made me laugh out loud and almost gave away the fact that I was not working. It read:

"If you want to be the most popular person in your class, whenever the professor pauses in his lecture, just let out a big snort and say "How do you figger that!" real loud. Then lean back and sort of smirk."

Here's how the conversation went:

me: get to work slacker
1:30 PM no funny jokes today on your custom message today?

Brian: i have conceded for the week

1:31 PM me: why?
thats a good one

Brian: It's my Friday off tomorrow and I only have a little over an hour before I go home

1:32 PM me: nice
what are you doing this weekend?

1:33 PM Brian: I'm going to Detroit, TX
me: what's there?

Brian: Grandpa

1:34 PM me: where si detroit

Brian: I'm not sure if I'm coming back on Friday night or staying in MV for the night
30 minutes from MV

me: we're floating the guadalupe sat if you want to come

1:35 PM Brian: I'm considering... I haven't talked to Stone about it since a few days ago

me: it's on my friend
meeting at Rip's 10:30 sat

1:36 PM Brian: I'd like to see a nude opera, because when they hit those high notes, I bet you can really see it in those genitals.

me: gross
1:37 PM where do you get these

Brian: that's right...
they're jack handy quotes

me: deep thoughts?
nice

Brian: indeed

me: my favorite was the crows

1:38 PM Brian: I find that it boosts company moral
lol... that was a funny one

me: it boosts my moral

Brian: http://farstrider.net/DeepThoughts/Handey.htm
1:40 PM I remember that one fateful day when Coach took me aside. I knew what was coming. "You don't have to tell me," I said. "I'm off the team, aren't I?" "Well," said Coach, "you never were really ON the team. You made that uniform you're wearing out of rags and towels, and your helmet is a toy space helmet. You show up at practice and then either steal the ball and make us chase you to get it back, or you try to tackle people at inappropriate times." It was all true what he was saying. And yet, I thought something is brewing inside the head of this Coach. He sees something in me, some kind of raw talent that he can mold. But that's when I felt the handcuffs go on.

1:41 PM me: hahaha

1:42 PM new favorite: "how do you figger that?"

Brian: lol
that's speaking my language now

1:43 PM me: no joke
Im doing thta next chance i get

Brian: hahaha

me: and shit into my spittoon
1:44 PM *spit

Brian: HAHAHAHA
I bet both would get a good look

me: im sure

Brian: oh man.... I'm about to fall out of my chair here...
I'm laughing out loud and it's so quiet

1:45 PM me: ive got to step away and laugh a minute

Brian: I'm just imagining you dropping a deuce in your spitoon in the middle of class
1:46 PM man, i'm crying

1:47 PM me: especially after asking the question "how'd ya figger that?"

Brian: hahahaha

me: dropping pants and pooping
1:49 PM oh lord id better get back to work

Coffee Shops Are A Breeding Ground For Idiots

We've all seen it. A coffee shop filled with guys and girls with horn-rimmed glasses and a computer on their lap. They are drinking some kind of Bolivian-roast hooey, and viciously typing while listening to an iPod. What they are drinking is an overpriced cup of shit from a coffee shop that capitalizes on the fact that these people are complete fools/dorks/idiots/delusional graudurists/neophytes/elitists, anyone of these usually fits the bill. What they are typing is some awful screenplay about a coming of age drama using some seemingly deep metaphor as the backbone of the storyline. And what they are listening to is the newest flavor of the moment indie rock band or singer/songwriter they saw in Austin last weekend. They are usually well educated with a BA in Women's Studies or Psychology. They will be more than happy to talk about their political views, but chances are good they will never have anything good to say and will probably mention plans to move to Paris within the next year. Their ultimate goal is to move to California or New York to sell their screenplay. If they drink alcohol, it will be wine. Most of them have seen "Sideways" and have subsequently become wine experts. If you tell them you like Merlot, be prepared for an eye-roll and a lecture on the superiority of Pinot Noir. At this point you can usually scissor-kick them, because their eyes will be closed most of the conversation because of their passion for wine. If Edgar is handy, he can easily sneak behind them and perform the 'Thought Of Death.'

T-Shirts Available (In The Near Future)

When I get twenty orders, I will make these t-shirts. They would make great gifts for anybody, especially grandparents. They would be so confused they would probably shit themselves. In which case, you could use the shirt to clean up the excrement, because that's all it's really good for anyway.

The front will appear as it does below and the back will have the URL on it.-20$

Adventures With Mary Jane

The quantity and recurrence of my escapades in marijuana have come into question and I am here to put all false notions to rest. To begin with, I am a fan of beer. It gets me where I want to go and at a pace I am comfortable with. It's all I really ever wanted, but there were those times when smoking a little pot seemed appealing and I acted on those instincts. But I am no pothead, even though I enjoy "Half-Baked" more than any normal person should. So here they are...my hilarious, intriguing, astonishing, outlandish, and sometimes sad, but always heartfelt adventures in the world cannabis.

1) Fall 02'- This was the first time I ever smoked pot, it was also the first time I'd ever seen it in real life. I didn't really know what to think about it, but I was befuddled by the amount of laughter spewing from that side of the room. It was welcome week at Baylor and I had met a buddy I went to high school with. He went to Texas, but his older brother went to Baylor and was a huge pot head. As the night went on, and I became drunker and drunker, the thought began to facilitate that I would like to try my hand at smoking weed. I was new to college and felt that I had deprived myself of several pleasures in the years leading up to this point. So, I took my first hit. The coughing was unbearable, and I could feel it in the back of my head. After the full body heaving had died down I sat down, watched a movie, and continued drinking. I noticed I wasn't high, or what I believed a "high" person should feel like based on movies and after school specials. I saw no unicorns or leprechauns, or even a yellow submarine for that matter. At about 4 o'clock am I head back to the dorm and subsequently throw up in the sink.

(a full version of this story can be found in the archives under "My First Day Of College")

2) Dec 03'-This next story involves some of the same players as the first and has a similar ending. I had met up with a couple of my buddies from high school over the Christmas break. We went over to a girl's apartment who also went to high school with us, and spent the majority of the night playing Presidents & Assholes. One of the guys I was with brought up the idea to go to Austin and hang out at a party his fraternity was having. I wasn't too keen on going, as I had seen some of the toolbags that frequent these shin-digs and had no desire to go. They eventually convinced me it would be fun and I ended up going against my better judgement. We got to Austin and looked for this shit-ass party for thirty minutes before finding it. Once we got there, the guys I came with disappeared. I was pissed. There I was at a party in Austin surrounded by a bunch of cretins throwing out popular catch phrases and high-fiving. I decided the only course of action was to get shitfaced and hopefully not get left behind. So I did. I ran into one of the guys when I went to the bathroom, and asked where the hell they had been. He fed me some bullshit answer, but I found out later they had gone down there so the could screw these two whores that were there. I was angry, but I was more drunk than angry so I quickly forgot about it. They told me about this other party we were going to on the other side of Austin that was "going to be alot cooler than this." "How could it get any cooler than this?" I wondered. So we headed back out to find another party. Sidenote: I hate doing this kind of cruising around 'swingers' bullshit. I like to plant myself somewhere with fun people who aren't douches. Anyway, we had to pull over on the way there because I had eaten some bad chili and it was coming back up with all the turning and weaving. I didn't quite make it all out of the car and had to throw away the Russell Athletic sweater I had on. It is probably still in that Austin suburb somewhere. I did feel much better by the time we got to the party and was ready to rally. I walked in the door and was offered weed right away. I took a hit, and grabbed a seat on the floor which was the only place to sit down. I took a couple more hits and began to feel sick again. The toke had made me lazy so all I did was lean over and puke in some chicks purse. I was banished to the back of the car to lay and wait until the others were finished partying and ready to go home. A nice girl did come out and check on me. She brought me a glass of water and asked how I felt. That's the last thing I remember before waking up at two the next day feeling like dogshit.

Summer 04'- I met up with some friends of mine who went to UMHB. These guys were not your typical UMHB students, they were actually cool guys who liked to hang out and drink. One evening, they had bought some pot from a guy and wanted to smoke up. I happened to be there, so I partook in the activities at hand. It was a great night, we ate chips and watched cartoons till around 3 in the morning. I have still never laughed so hard.

Fall 04'- Nick was a poker buddy of mine who played in our bi-weekly poker game. He was a cool guy and was always fun to hang out with. One weekend, Schoellkopf had a party at his house on tenth street. I attended, but quickly grew bored with the crowd of under aged girls screaming every time they saw one another. So I ventured down to Nick's house which was right down on the corner. I was welcomed in and asked if I wanted to smoke. I said "why not," and was introduced to "Stuart Little" the loving name they gave a tiny pipe for a single smoker. After I had "burned down" Stuart Little, I did see yellow submarines and the whole bit. I floated out of the house and went to pester Keene, but not before pissing on Burge's car and leaving him a note in the filth on his roof that read, "Burge- I pissed on your car. Love, Shep." I walked into Keene's house to find it occupied only by Kevin and his new girlfriend-at-the-time Jordan. I asked if I had interrupted anything and to please continue and not to mind me. I went in and crashed on Mac's dog bed and quickly passed out. A picture later circulated with Jordan getting cozy with my high-ass on that damn dog bed. It was in their wedding slide show.

Summer 06'- We had just gotten moved into the new Marie house and had just gotten settled in. I found out quickly that we had moved next door to Anthony, my freshman year roommate. He was a bonifide pothead and you were hard pressed to find a time he wouldn't be high. So I was over there one night and they were sitting in a circle smoking a bowl, so I decided to join in just for the hell of it. I didn't feel anything because it was probably real shitty anyway.

Summer 07'- Billy Bob's (scroll down)

So there you have it. An accurate account and catalog of my dealings in the world of Mary Jane. I hope this answered any questions there might have been (frettyblog) about my experience with illegal drugs.

Entertainment Is Done By The Same People

As I was browsing the internet today I came across a new movie coming out soon called "Superbad" starring Micheal Cera (better known as George Micheal Bluth) and Jonah Hill (the fat kid) from "Accepted" and "Knocked Up." It looked like a decent movie and then I saw it was made by the same guys who made "Knocked Up" and it hit me. All the good movies and TV shows I actually like and watch are connected in some way, and that I will probably go see this movie.

Here goes:

Micheal Cera was on "Arrested Development" which was produced by Ron Howard who played "Opie" on The Andy Griffith Show (a show I watched as a kid), he was also in American Graffitti (a great movie) which was directed by George Lucas who produced Indiana Jones (Harrison Ford was also in American Graf) with Steven Spielberg, Spielberg directed "Saving Private Ryan" which co-starred Giovanni Ribisi who has a recurring role on "My Name Is Earl" which stars Jason Lee who was in "Stealing Harvard" with Leslie Mann who played "Big-boobs McGee" in Adam Sandler's "Big Daddy" (also appears in "40 year old virgin" and "Knocked up")which co-starred the always recurring Alan Covert who has been in almost every Sandler movie. Covert played a liquor clerk in the Judd Apatow show "Freeks and Geeks" Judd Apatow is responsible for such great movies as: "Anchorman", "The 40 Year Old Virgin", and "Knocked Up." Steve Carrell was in two of those movies and stars in NBC's "The Office" and Jonah Hill is the kid in "The 40 Year Old Virgin" who is trying to buy the disco shoes at the E-Bay store. He also stars in "Grandma's Boy" with Covert and Linda Cardellini who starred in Apatow's "Freaks and Geeks"

Sister More Of A Pothead Than First Thought

We went to Billy Bob's this past weekend to see Reckless Kelly put on a show. It was one of the better shows I've been to. They played all their hits and most of my favorites. The best part about the whole trip was that my sister's boyfriend had gotten us all free tickets and two free hotel rooms within two blocks of Billy Bob's.

We had a blast during the concert. I drank a bunch a beer and a couple jagerbombs and felt like a million bucks. While we were smoking a cigarette, my sister mentioned to me that she had some weed and that she wanted to go back to the hotel and smoke a little. Now, before you start judging me just know that I am a novice. Ol' Shep is no square though. In all honesty, I've never bought any, I've never packed a pipe or rolled a joint, and all I can really do is inhale and watch cartoons. That being said, I was drunk enough to think it was a good idea to go back to the hotel and smoke a bowl.

What I was not aware of was how much Sister seemed to know about it. She had all the essential gear and a vast know-how of many aspects. I looked at the baggie and thought,"this doesn't look like much, I wonder if anyone can even get high off this." I was assured that it was more than plenty for everyone. This was confirmed by a certain Big E. After seeing her load and re-load the pipe picking up every crumb of cannabis, I realized she was probably a pretty big pothead. I had no idea. I thought it was pretty funny, because she was really getting into seeing how far she could make her stash last.

As I began to feel the effects take hold, my mouth suddenly went bone-dry. I noticed this when, as I was talking, my upper lip stuck to my teeth. All the water I drank did little to help. It was a weird feeling, I felt less inebriated but would get a chuckle out of some strange things. I woke up the next morning with both lips stuck to my teeth. I walked to the mirror to see what looked like a shaved chipmunk, but was in reality only my reflection.

All in all it was a fun trip and I got my annual pot-smoke out of the way.

Comments

I had no idea the "comments" section was blocked to anonymous comments. I have fixed that so you don't need a member of the GoogleBlogger to post comments. Although I would like to see FrettyBlog take off and share his wealth of knowledge with the world.

The Price Is Right

With the departure of Bob Barker, a replacement must be found to fill the honorable role of show host. Being a respected member of the freelance media, I figured I'd throw my candidates into the ring.

And they appear as follows:

1) Louie Anderson- I really think he's funny. He cut his teeth on "The Feud" and did a hell of a job. He is currently unemployed, so he's definitely available.

2) Richard Karn- Better known as 'Al Borland' from "Home Improvement." He also has game show experience, also on "Family Feud." Ladykiller.

3) Tom Bergeron- Current host of "America's Funniest Videos." Slight cheese dick, but a solid personality. Knows Daisy Fuentes.

4) Jason Alexander- "Thank God You're Here" is not lasting, he'll be begging for this job come January. Stipulation: He MUST ride a segway.

5) Will Arnett- The steam coming off of "Arrested Development" has opened doors for this Canadian-born actor. I think he would be a great fit, although he'll probably want to stick to acting. Also would need to ride a segway.

6) Bob Saget- Why not. Although he would probably try to bang contestants after the show.

7) Zach Galifianakis- A bearded off-color comedian, he would send the show in a different direction. His appeal would be making fun of contestants for spinning the wheel like a pussy, or making an idiotic guess of $1. Better known (maybe) as "Alan Finger" from "Dog Bites Man."

8) Ted Danson- Probably the best candidate. "Becker" is a piece of shit. "Curb Your Enthusiasm" is no longer. Take it Ted, take it!

9) Burt Reynolds/ Norm McDonald as Burt Reynolds- Nothing wrong with either of these choices.

10) Donald Faison: The Token candidate, but would probably work out nicely seeing as "Scrubs" is over in the Fall.

There you have it, if you can put together a better list I'd sure like to see it.

Why Is Rosie O'Donnell Making News?

Where the hell did Rosie come from? Last time I saw her she was swooning over a still sane Tom Cruse. A week later America found out she was a huge dyke, and that was that. Now, she's come out of left field and is making news again. I didn't see her appeal in the first place. She made one movie, appeared in a handful of t.v. shows and made-for-tv movies, and had her own talk show. She is a walrus, has a terrible New York accent, and is a poor actress. I didn't even know she had been a host on "The View," which by the way is the single most God-awful show in the history of shows. I'd rather snip the tip of my penis with gardening shears than have to watch 5 minutes of "The View." But now Rosie has something to say about President Bush and the state of the union, so everybody perks their ears up. I think idiots who take what Rosie O'Donnell has to say to heart should be neutered and deported. If I ever saw Rosie in public, I'd take a swing at her. Now that she's back in the public eye, she's been offered a number of jobs including Bob Barker's replacement on "The Price Is Right." Barker was a stud and you're telling me a fat, pasty, lesbo is going to pull the same ratings? Buuuull-shit. Somebody throw this bitch a herring so she'll shut the fuck up.

Where Men Became Boys

Borrello's washer tournament was a big hit. The event that put it over the top though, was the intense schlitterball game that took place after much of the washer field had been eliminated.

That day began with me waking up at an early hour. I can usually sleep-in pretty good, but I guess I was too excited about the tournament. My stomach was hurting, no doubt from inhaling a whataburger at 2 a.m., and I began to feel my stomach rumble. I needed to expel a cloud of methane to relieve the pain. I did. Little did I know I had opened Pandora's Box. It was the kind of stink that would make paint peel. I was amused and amazed with it's potency...Lee was not.

We met up with Beerman a while later to grab some breakfast at the Pancake House off Midway. It was a good meal, the eggs were shitty and cold, but the bacon was good as well as the pancakes.

Afterwards, we headed out to Ft. Worth. Lee began to feel sick from what he thought were bad eggs. The entire trip consisted of one of us farting, and the other trying to get their window down quick enough not to smell it. You're beginning to see the relevance of the title.

We arrived at Borrello's a little after noon and began to drink. People were slowly arriving, so we took the opportunity to catch up with folks we hadn't seen in a while. Borrello had his house looking top notch, as top notch as a Borrello house can get anyway. His grass was a nice green St. Augustine, freshly cut, with plenty of shade provided by a number of large trees. Lawn chairs and ice chests were scattered throughout the yard, and the lesbians' house was in plain sight. Former "hardass champion" and murderer of the beloved Smokey, Coburn, greeted me with a man-hug. At the time, I was not drunk enough for man-hugs, but whatever.

Soon, the tournament was began. I had been paired with Keene, a good draw for both of us. Our first match was against the combo of Fretty/Borrello. I had my fears because Borrello had built the pits, and therefore had a good feel for their layout and tendencies. However, that thought of doubt quickly dissipated when we jumped ahead never to look back en route to a first round victory. Hands were shook and chest bumps were dealt out at the end as a sign of good sportsmanship. The second round began to get a little blurry. I had gotten drunk waiting to play the second game and had a hard time adjusting right off the bat. But before I knew it, we had built an insurmountable lead and finished the game with little effort. We were one game away from the finals, but had a rematch with the Fretty/Borrello tandem. They had clawed their way back from a humiliating loss in the first round and had made it into the semi-finals. A good deal of time passed between our second and third game, so needless to say I was in an inebriated condition. Feeling ten feet tall, I approached the pits with a swagger equal to that of Johnny Unitas, however, I did not count on Fretty Namath the giant-killer. A drunk Keene and I, handed the first game to the scrappers from the losers bracket. I didn't really know we were playing until about halfway through the game. The second and deciding final game was one for the ages. One team would take a small lead, only for the lead to change hands on the very next throw. Fretty sank one in the closing throws to put us away. We had fallen two games in a row and were now out of cash prize contention. We did make it to the third place game but we were all too drunk to give a damn, so we sent a scout party out to locate a volleyball so we could play Schlitterball.

It seemed like a great deal of time passed before the volleyball task force arrived back at the house. I spent the down time shoving beer and various dips in my face. I also had to make multiple bathroom stops, as the eggs were making themselves known to my digestive tract. I'm not sure what time we started playing Schlitterball, but we were all blasted out of our minds. Coburn had remained sober because he is not a fan of alcoholic beverages for one reason or another, and had subsequently won the washer tournament. None of this mattered to me because I was feeling stud and eager to whoop an ass at Schlitterball.

The game was underway, I had been selected as handman and was doing a great job. By this point everyone was drunk as shit. I mean really really drunk. There were 12-14 guys in a backyard kicking a volleyball around, screaming, swearing, running, and slamming beers. It reminded me of a kindergarten recess, however in this case the kindergartners were drunk and hairy men. I was too sloppy to be a good handman. I spent the majority of my time drinking and if a ball got close I'd punch it, usually out of bounds. Something got me stirred up and I hit a three point stance, ready to explode out of it and do some damage. But, as most stupors go, I quickly forgot why I was in the three point stance in the first place so I just returned to my station over the cup. The few women who were there (all except one were either wives or fiances) sat over in a shady corner and watched with disgust the recessing maturity level of the partygoers. All the work they had done on their respective mates had all gone down the drain in a matter of hours. I felt bad for those chumps Sunday morning and the kind of ass-chewing they would have to endure. The game continued. Every point was challenged and every beer was drank. All of a sudden a "Mystery Man" came out of the woodwork and began to tear down the nig-rig Schlitterball net. This incited a riot, as everyone started running around kicking over the cups and throwing empty beer cans at one another.

After the excitement had died down, everyone began to go their own ways. I went and got more beer, a Gatorade (to combat dehydration), and some smokes. But the party was clearly over for the day. I was slightly relieved that it was over, because I was starting to feel like shit. We had all put in a full day of work, and that was something we could all be proud of.

Indeed, it was something we could all be proud of.

Politics

I, for the most part, tend to keep my political views to myself. I don't like when people try to force certain ideaologies on one another, because all that happens is they become angry and neither one was going to listen to the other in the first place. I think people should vote based on what a canitdate has to offer them, not how much media coverage they get or if they are the "dark horse" canidate, or whatever. I vote republican because they have the most to offer me. I am a big supporter of homeland security and little government regulation on businesses. I believe the market should dictate business, not the government. Anyway, I really just made this post so I could draw another cartoon, I guess it's a political cartoon....but better.

I'm Not Chugging Anymore Big O's

If any one who wants to see me chug a Big O must now do it on YouTube. I'm done whoring myself out to amuse friends or some chick who wants to see it. I thought, at first, it would bring me some sort of minor celebrity. I did not know it would turn me into a common prostitute shamelessly turning tricks for money (or in my case free beer).

If asked to perform, the following scenario WILL take place.

Ralph the Office Dog: Smoking Inside

Last Friday I had to stay late and finish some bullshit up before I could leave. I was pissed bacause I like to make a habit of peeling out early on Fridays, not staying till 6. I was hunched over my computer wishing I had a cigarette. I wanted to take a break and go out on the roof to have one, but I wanted to get finished and leave. It was also hot as balls, especially on the roof. I thought ot myself, "why not have one inside?" We used to smoke in the break room before the building manager told us we couldn't do it anymore. So I lit one up at my desk. I felt like a private eye. I was just waiting for some dame to come in asking for my assistance to find who kidnapped her sister. As I finsihed up my work and was heading out I wondered if the weekend would clear out the smoke smell. I figured Ralph could take the blame if it didn't.

This Easy Listening Station Is Driving Me Nuts

Currently Playing: Instrumental "Do You Know The Way To Santa Fe"

No, I don't know the way to Santa Fe. Who wants to go to New Mexico anyway? The easy listening station at work is by far the laziest-ass station I've ever listened to. I hear the same damn songs every day. However, sometimes they are just instrumentals, they like to mix it up I guess.

Songs that without fail will play every damn day:
1) "All you need is love" instrumental
2) "Don't know who you are" instrumental and vocal ( Superman I soundtrack)
3) "Wichita Lineman" instrumental
4) "Tiny Dancer" instrumental (which I like, but not every day)
5) "Listen to the music" instrumental (now currently playing)
6) A multitude of other songs I don't know the name of but could recite word for word.

I can usually do a good job of just tuning them out, but today they are just overdoing it.

Ever since my Ipod was stolen by some sparkling wiggles I have had a difficult time finding a variety of music to listen to. My CD collection has exhausted itself, and there is nothing good on the radio. Therefore I am left with talk radio and listening to Adam Carroll and Old Crow Medicine Show Cd's. I'm not going to listen to Big&Rich on 99.9FM or Stained on 97.5FM. That's out of the question.

I have not had a good drunk story in a while it seems, or a good post for that matter. I'm going to Ft. Worth this weekend to go to a washers tournament... something good should come out of that. Maybe I'll post my first non-high school hook-up story. Hey, any thing's possible.

Fuck You Cats!

I hate and despise fucking cats. I hate them so much I would fire a weapon into a crowd if I thought there was a slim chance I might hit a cat. This picture pretty much sumd up how cats make me feel.







"fuck you, cats!"











If I meet a girl and we get married later down the road and she buys a damn cat, I'm going to murder the damn cat and every other one she gets to replace the previous one. Cat people can lick my sack as well. "ohhh, look at puss he's so precious." Puss will die before the night is over you crazy wench.





I will give you a shot of Drano













The one exception to cats is the late Smokey. Killed in her prime by the now-deceased Red, Coburn's pit bull. A fine animal, Smokey didn't come around for food, she just wanted to hang out and chill on the porch. She loved it when you blew smoke on her, hence the name. All other cats bow to the legend that is Smokey. Kittens weep.






I WILL DRINK YOU!

Super Soaker And Nerf... Where The Hell Are You?

When I was a kid, every other commercial on t.v. was for something kick-ass. Sure you had some life insurance commercials and the occasional car commercial, but right after that you were bombarded with an advertisement for some great toy that you would spend the next two weeks trying to get enough money together to buy. Be it G.I. Joe or Hot Wheels it was an intense-ass motivating ad. I think that is part of the problem with these lazy kids. I'm going to go ahead and say it. The absence of Nerf and Super Soaker have directly contributed to juvenile onset diabetes. When you saw John Elway throw that Vortex football a bugillion yards, you went out and tried to see how far you could throw it. When you saw everybody getting shot with a massive water gun, you ran outside and filled your gun up and went looking for somebody to hose down. The point is, that the youth of today do not have the same great urge to go outside and start a water fight or play a game of Nerf football. We did it because it looked like a ton of fun. Now they see a couple of fags playing some card game and they beg their parents to buy them a set. They sit in a room for hours playing a card game that is nothing more than the brainchild of a poor sad dungeons & dragons enthusiast. Next time you get a gift for a nephew or small cousin, please, buy them a big-ass water gun.

Ralph the Office Dog

I work with a Geologist in an office west of Temple. He has accrued a bunch of worthless shit over the years and has most of it in our shared office space. The bulk of this junk predates the 1980's, so it has a distinct odor of cigarettes, mothballs, and cheese fondue. There is a gem, however, amidst the scores of strange paintings and 3-d wall hangings. Ralph. Ralph is a porcelain basset hound who sits in the corner and sometimes takes the rap for slip-ups. One example was when Tim farted and said, "damn it, Ralph!" I laughed my ass off, and have since blamed Ralph for my misdeeds. Apparently, Ralph has left the front door unlocked, clogged up the commode, and spilled coffee on some maps. He wore a hardhat for a few months and looked damn good.

Fantasy Baseball: Not So Great

In my unyielding quest for Yahoo! fantasy trophies, I decided to start a fantasy baseball league. I thought it would be a fun and entertaining way to pass the time until football season gets here. I was mistaken. I put together a powerhouse fantasy team with a kick-ass name and now have nothing to show for it but a 6th place spot and a bevy of disappointment. I believe it began with deciding to do a rotisserie style of play, which I thought meant no head-to-head matchups just total points. But apparently you can lose points at will, which I think is just bogus. I went from first to 6th in a matter of days and I didn't even know how. Yahoo! does not give a clear breakdown of the points system, so I don't know what moves to make. It just pisses me off. Fuck you baseball, and fuck you Yahoo! lets move on to football season. I wonder if they could do fantasy arena football?

Cut The Shit Bill Murray

I heard a little while back that a new Ghostbusters movie was in the works. It's called Ghostbusters In Hell, and will have Dan Akroyd and Rick Moranis reprising their rolls, and I can only imagine Harold Ramis coming back as Egon Spangler (seeing as how he is involved as producer). The movie is set in a parallel dimension New York where the 'Busters are sucked in to.

Sayonara Gopher!



My one problem with this so far is that they REALLY want Ben Stiller in the movie. I think Ben Stiller has been in, and ruined, enough movies already, and should just leave this one alone. I will probably start a petition tomorrow called "Keep Ben Stiller Away From Ghostbusters!" For one, they already have their neurotic nerd-type...Moranis. And he's damn good. He was cracking folks up on SCTV while Stiller was still stuck on his lame-ass self titled MTV show. And if they plan the make Stiller the hero, then God help us and the Ghostbusters.




You ARE Dr. Peter Venkman

Another depressing start to this flick is the hold-out of Bill Murray. Who "doesn't want to get sucked back into doing strictly comedy bits." Bill. Bill. Bill. 'Lost in Translation' was the first movie in ten years that I just turned off halfway through. I can usually pride myself for enduring shitty movies, but not 'Lost in Translation.' I just couldn't do it, even with Scarlett Johanssen's tits all over the place. That says a lot about your "serious" roles. Let's not kid ourselves Bill, you're a funny guy and everyone loves you for it. You have become a wealthy man because because of it, and you will be remembered for it whether you like it or not. So do us a favor and bring back Pete Venkman. Hell, do it for the fucking kids.

Osmosis Jones-?

...shit...

Ultimate Matchups: Monster Pig vs. Nintendude

10 feet long and over 1000lbs., MonsterPig is a formidable foe for anyone without a gun. Reaching speeds of up to 45 mph he can run down a 1989 cutlass supreme without breaking stride. He can eat an entire Burge without chewing. His skin is as though as iron, only having a few "soft" spots where objects can penetrate. Did I mention he can eat an entire Burge without chewing?

5 foot 6 inches and over 300lbs. the Nintendude cuts his own hair with a bowl on top of his head. Armed with the fabled game glove, and multiple controller medallions, he is truly the favorite in this matchup. He also sports a zapper which he uses to gun down any 8-bit prey that might cross his path, a controller sceptor with the power give hand blisters to anyone who tries to challenge him, and a white cloak/cape which provides him camoflague in snowy areas when in battle, and provides warmth when he no doubt passes out late at night while playing Contra.

Pianos, Hurricanes, and a Finger

I received an urgent phone call from Cook early Friday morning explaining that the river trip for Kurt's bachelor party had been cancelled. I was not surprised, it had been raining all day for a week straight and had killed four local Killeen idiots trying to cross a low water crossing that had posted a "do not cross" sign on it. I was disappointed about not getting to make the trek back to Leakey where, a year before, we had all gotten piss drunk and sang "God Bless America" (Under the direction of Lippy). I was relieved when Cook told me that we were trying to figure something else out to do for Kurt. I was glad because I had been planning on leaving work early and was not about to change my plans as far as that aspect was concerned. After long distance deliberations, we decided on San Antonio. The reasoning had been that Everyone has seen all there is to see in D/FW and Austin, Houston is a piece of shit, and we didn't have enough time to put together anything complex. So, by process of elimination, San Antone was the obvious choice.

I met a caravan group in Lampasas and Edgar hopped on board with me and we proceeded to SA. It took a while to find the hotel, mostly because no one has been to San Antonio since they were 8. But eventually we found the La Tropicana nestled in the bosom of the riverwalk and unloaded.

La Tropicana looked like a transplant straight from Miami's South Beach. It was a completely white building with palm trees and ambient samba music over loudspeakers. I felt the need to have a cigarette and did so. The theme at La Tropicana was enough to raise an eyebrow, however, it was not until witnessing the pool complete with tiki bar and toucan aviary that I knew I could score some coke if I had wanted.

We settled in and began to get ready to go out for the evening. We decided Hooters was the best choice for dinner. In my opinion, it was about par with the Waco Hooters...not very impressive. I did chug a bunch of beers and have a decent sandwich with potato salad to begin what would become an evening of debauchery.

After dinner we headed to Pat O'Brien's. If you will recall the Spring Break posts, you will remember how fucked up I got on Hurricanes on my 22nd at New Orleans' Pat O's, and the subsequent torture I had to endure because of it.

For some reason this thought had not crossed my mind. I believe my subconscious had blocked that horrible memory from my mind in an attempt save me any embarrassment from recalling the story and curling up in the fetal position.

The piano players were pretty shitty, but they knew most of the songs we paid them to play. At one point, I wrote on a napkin that it was Kurt's bachelor party and we were getting him shitfaced. I felt the pianist's needed to know. When he got to the napkin with that written on it he called Kurt up on stage. As Kurt got up on stage, he asked him to call up the most attractive guy he had come with to join him on stage. I, of course, was chosen and had to also endure this public humiliation. Already drunk and up on the stage, Kurt and I had to spell out M-O-T-H-E-R with our bodies. It was less than perfect, but good enough for the time being. We exited the stage and I really began to put away Hurricanes. I get real foggy after I got off the stage, but I do remember talking to and older woman, about what I don't know. I might have asked her if she wanted to spoon.

I don't remember leaving Pat O's or how we got back to the hotel, however I do have a flash of memory when I pissed in the elevator (elevator piss count:2) on the way back to the room. I woke up the next morning fully clothed (boots included) and stepped on Ballas head.

I was still REAL drunk when I woke up. We drove to a burger place and I was getting motion sick driving. We arrived at the restaurant and ordered burgers. I sat down with my food and started feeling real sick. I tried to eat my burger, but only felt worse. Someone suggested I go pull the trigger. I sat there and tried to convince myself I didn't need to puke and that it would all pass in a minute...it didn't. I reluctantly went into the restroom and hit a two-point stance ready to release the evil from inside my stomach. I jammed my finger down my throat and waited for the heaving that would soon commence. And sure enough, it came. At first, it was all the water I had been drinking that morning, then the small portion of burger and three french fries made an appearance, and finally a congealed mass consisting of Hurricanes, beer, and Hooters food. I felt relief pass over my poor body and I washed myself thoroughly before returning to the table.

I finished off my burger with no problem and made a good dent in the fries before we left. The relief was not long lived, however. I began to feel bad again when we got back to the hotel and did so the entire day. I was so sick I needed to cop out on the proceeding night of activities. I felt like a pussy, and some agreed with me, but I just could not muster any strength to hit the town.

I will redeem myself soon...very soon.

Dallas has way too many Metrosexuals and Qdobas

"Well I was going to do my normal sushi and then head over Mercy's house," this was a blue tooth phone conversation overheard at a Dallas Barnes&Noble. I had tagged along with Fretty & Kim on Saturday afternoon while they looked at wedding magazines. I had gone along for a margarita and wanted to look for a geology book I had been wanting to get. Of course they didn't have it, so I wandered around looking for a potential read that didn't involve global warming or ethanol gasoline. Once again, no such luck. Every single earth science book they carried had something to do with an eminent catastrophe, which I think is just bullshit. (refer to Y2K) It's just a way to get people to buy nonsensical crap with no real factual evidence because of some "global disaster" that will end us all. I admit the fossil fuel shortage is an actual problem, but nothing will be done about it until it absolutely necessary. That's just how it is. When the world needs an alternative fuel source, it will become available. And mark my words, ethanol WILL NOT be the cure-all answer everyone thinks it is. Fact: Ethanol cannot be shipped through pipelines because of its corrosive nature. This means it will have to be shipped through trucks meaning it will be MORE expensive at the pumps. Fact: U.S. agriculture can account for less than 1% of the fuel needs of the country. This means that if all the corn grown in the U.S. today were used solely for the purpose of ethanol manufacturing, it would meet less than 1% of the fuel demand. Fact: The corrosive nature of ethanol means shorter engine life for cars. Ethanol ruins engines, so be prepared to buy a new car in 3 to 4 years.



Anyway, I've gotten off subject...



So the evening before the Barnes&Noble trip, we spent the night at the Village country club. They were holding a karaoke contest that night and I was highly excited to say the least. I sang The Band's classic "The Weight" which went over very well with the crowd. However, I was not counting on a smoking hot blond singing a sultry number that had the crowd's tongues hanging out. After all the performers were finished, we were called up to the stage to get voted on by the crowd. I had made the final four along with Stone, who had given a rousing rendition of "Come Sail Away", the hot blond, and some dork who had sung Frank Sinatra. Stone and blondie were shoe-ins, and I thought I was too, but I had not counted on all the metrosexuals voting for the Sinatra nerd. Although I should have known better, because all these metro-asses think they are reincarnations of the Rat-Pack anyway. Needless to say, I lost. I drowned my sorrows in $3.25 beers and bummed-cigarettes, not to mention the biggest jagerbomb ever. I can still taste that thing when I burp. But I decided to pull out the big guns and show the crowd what they had passed on. I got back up to the karaoke stage and performed a spirited Meatloaf. I like to think they were kicking themselves the entire performance.

Saturday we went to Uptown bar and grill, one of my favorite places in Dallas. They were having their weekly karaoke night Saturday and again we sang and drank to our hearts content. Kevin and Jordan had arrived from a wedding in which Jordan had had a few drinks and was having the most fun of anybody. She proclaimed she was my number one fan, which I would have taken more seriously if she hadn't tried to grab my beer I had ordered and tried to drink it. I noticed she was a close talker when intoxicated by the proximity she put her face to mine, once penetrating my ear with her nose. Everyone who came up to talk to me was informed she was my number one fan, per her request. I would try to talk to someone and Jordan would fly in and get in my ear and tell me to tell them who my number one fan was. Bill Floyd came over to say hi, and Jordan leaned over and glared at him and asked, "who is this?" I introduced her to Bill and then she added, "what do you want." Bill asked me a question to which I replied, and then Jordan promptly said, "OK, you can leave now." Bill was highly confused. I don't think my number one fan thought too highly of Bill.

Kick-Ass Shows You May Have Forgotten

I do alot of research on many subjects in my spare time. I always enjoy expanding my knowledge of fairly obscure subjects for my own satisfaction. While casually browsing wikipedia, as I often do, I started looking up old shows I used to watch as a kid and thought it would fun to take a nostalgic look back. (sidenote: i just sneezed and peed a little)

1) Captain N: The Game Master (short for Captain Nintendo)

I can remember watching this on tv. I thought it was kick ass that they made a show based on a game system. Little did I know they would base entire movies on video games (I think the first would be the Mario Brothers starring John Leguazamo.) Only 3 seasons long, Captain N is probably worth the money. Also, the main character's name is Kevin Keene...I know a Kevin Keene, I was in his wedding.

2) Denver The Last Dinosaur

One of the best theme songs ever. This show is the embodiment of growing up in the 80's. The heavy environmental themes are reflective of the wave of "save the rainforest/whales" activism. Plus it was a ass-kickin dinosaur.

3) Bobby's World

Before Howie Mandel became currently famous for his hosting of "Deal or No Deal" he was enjoying monetary success with his self-voiced cartoon series based on his life as a parent. A handful of life lessons were learned during each show and everyone started their Saturday morning on a high-note.

4) Attach of the Killer Tomatos

Also a kick-ass theme song...and thats about it. This show was actually really bad.

5) Ghostbusters

I was, and still am a huge Ghostbusters fan. Peter Venkmon is a total and complete badass who gets more parapscyhology ass than any man should be able to. The show was action-packed with proton packs aplenty along with Venkmon getting a little nook in each episode.

Thats all I can think of...let me know if you remember a show worthy of remembering and it will be included in part two.

Ways to Thwart the Homeless

The homeless invasion has reached an all-time peak. I can no longer sit on my porch, take a trip to the grocery/convenience store, or go to taco bell after 1:30am without being hassled by these leeches on society. After my many years of dealing with said homeless, I have studied and devised these fail-safe methods for dealing with these lazy-asses.

1) The No-Money Excuse

This is the most popular way to get out of giving money to the homeless. After they tell their sad story of how they got screwed, or how many kids they have that need food, or any other lie they might tell you, just shrug your shoulders and say, "sorry buddy, I don't have any money." They might look confused because you just walked out of H-E-B with a case of beer and some beef jerky, but stick to your story...they always do.

2) Ask Them for Money First Technique

A less popular approach, and one I have never actually tried before, the idea is to confuse these bums by asking them for cash before they get a chance to ask first. From what I hear it's fairly effective. We've all been in a situation where you know a guy approaching you is going to ask for money, just ask him first...the homeless are easily confused.

Say blood, can i get some change? These Hilfiger socks is itchy.

3) Hand Signals

My personal favorite, no verbal exchanges take place and the homeless person is cleanly dealt with. The stipulation is that one must be in an automobile with the windows up. When the homeless approach and motion for you to roll down the window, motion with your thumb and shake your head for them to get lost. Keep this going until they leave.

4) Scolding

The homeless are similar to children in many ways. They shit themselves, refuse to bathe, and have an elementary level education. Therefore, they respond to parental-like scoldings much like children. If approached by the homeless even when doing the most mundane activity, scold their ass like you were trying to finish your taxes. An good example of this was when I was ordering food at Taco Cabana. A homeless man walked up while I was trying to order. I looked at him and started scolding him. "I am trying to order... are you serious? get the hell out of here...scram!" Works every time.

5) The Cunningham Approach

If a homeless person takes even a single step in the direction of your house, just start yelling at them. "GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE! DON'T COME BACK YOU WORTHLESS ASS!" Highly effective.

6) Saddam Technique

If you see a homeless person coming, hide in the house. Just bunker in and turn on the t.v. until they leave. If they knock on the door, don't answer. If they persist, enforce the Cunningham Approach.

I think dem muthafuckas be hidin'

7) Dogs

If you own a dog then your in luck. The darker homeless hate dogs. It doesn't matter if it's a toy poodle, they scare the shit out of would-be panhandlers. Just let your terrier loose on one of these bums and watch the hilarity ensue.

8) Weapons

If you have a hammer handy on your porch just pick it up and wield it like you were a viking. A scowl on your face wouldn't hurt. Just look like you'd rattle their skull if they came up on the porch.

9) Edgar's Feats-of-Strength

If you're drunk and want to spend some money on entertainment, make the homeless earn it. It can really add some life to a dying party. When a bum comes to a party and asks for cash, set up an obstacle course or make him perform a floor exercise to Asia's "heat of the moment." Fun will be had by all. If he doesn't complete the feats tease him like he's not getting any money, but eventually you probably need to pay him.

Mazzio's Pizza: A Storied Past

Many people are aware of the undenyable greatness of this American-Italian institution, however few know the true depths of its inspiration on U.S. history. Therefore, we will explore Mazzio's Pizza from its humble beginnings to its undisputed dominance in the 21st century.

Mazzio's is an Italian eatery located throughout the South and Midwest portions of the U.S. It was first founded in 1961, when a young school teacher named Ken Selby opened a restaurant named The Pizza Parlor in Tulsa, Oklahoma. In 1965, Selby opened a second location and changed the name to Ken's Pizza. By 1975, there were more than 100 franchise locations in and around Oklahoma.

In 1974 Barry Switzer, looking for a place to feed his hungry team, decided to take them to a Norman Mazzio's one friday afternoon before their first home game. The team performed so well he decided to make a ritual of it. That year they won the national championship...coincidence?

In 1997, Payton Manning ate at a Tennesse Mazzio's every Monday afternoon to help him focus and prepare for the week. That same year Ryan Leaf was dining at a Pizza Inn. Ryan Leaf now works at a Pizza Inn.

Bob Dylan wrote all his songs from 1975-on at various Mazzios'

Fred Savage was discovered at a Mazzio's while playing Pac-Man and enjoying his cheese pizza.

LeBron James was concieved in a Mazzio's bathroom in 1985.

Singer MeatLoaf's song "I would do anything for love" was origionally titled "I would do anything for Mazzio's" The following line "but I won't do that" origionally referred to him strangling a puppy. "Bat Out Of Hell" 's album title came from employee accounts of MeatLoaf entering Mazzio's. eg. "he came in like a bat out of hell and started shoving food in his face."

"Two Guy's a Girl and a Pizza Place" is not based on Mazzio's in any way form or fashion, with the exception that they try to be cool and Mazzio's is actually cool.

A young boy named Matt used to come to Mazzio's and doodle on the napkins while he enjoyed his pizza and soda. And who did Matt grow up to be? Matt Groening. Who is this? He created the Simpsons...der.

Macually Culkin did not eat at Mazzio's. And he is not respected as an actor because of it. Instead he is reduced to making movies like "Party Monster" with the likes of Seth Green and Wilmer Valderama.

George Orwell's "1984" is based on what society would be like without free market economy and the retardation of human emotion...two things Mazzio's strongly endorses and benifits.

America has Mazzio's, Mexico does not.

The Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles are shown eating Mazzio's pizza in their first two feature films(boxoffice blockbusters). The third movie however was sponsored by Pizza Hut (monetary flop).

I need to get Mazzio's to sponsor this blog.

Guest Author: Lee Mitchell

This is a story I've heard from Lee a number of times. It's pertains to a childhood incident of his. I always laugh when I picture what happens to Jake. Anyway, Lee was kind enough to finally put this story into writing. Enjoy.

Matt Cunningham, Jake (brother), and I were trespassing in my neighbors barn. Little did we know that they were selling the property and a realtor with hopeful buyers drove up to the barn. We ran out the back and slipped into a horse trailer where we hoped to hide out until they were gone. Unfortunately, we were hiding in a very small cramped area that the sun was beating down on. It was unbelievably hot and there was cat poop scattered all over the floor. Suddenly, Matt picked up a piece of the cat poop and, with amazing accuracy, flung it directly into Jake's mouth. Jake instantly threw up all over the place. All three of us started screaming and flung open the trailer door and rolled out. Trespassing, soaked in sweat, and grossed out, we hauled ass as fast as we could. The adults were staring at us as we ran towards our property for our own lives.

The Infamous Blackout Story

I went out to a party last night. It was an OK time, it just made me feel real old. While I was standing by the keg, I was asked to tell this story to a group who hadn't heard it before. I thought to myself after I finished, and realized I hadn't posted this particular story yet. I will tell it from the point I woke up that Saturday morning at 2 o'clock p.m.

I woke up that morning with a particularly bad hangover. My room felt like a sauna, and I was automatically miserable. As I rolled over in an attempt to find my phone and see what time it was, I noticed I was naked. Upon further inspection, I found I was also dripping wet. Confused, but not very surprised, I find something to cover myself with and head to the bathroom to piss. I was gauging how dehydrated I was by looking at the color of my piss, when I noticed the bathtub was filled to the brim with a dirty looking water. I then realized I had no idea what had happened to me the night before and was going to have to do some detective work to find out.

I found my phone on the floor of the hallway. It was low on battery and had 7 new messages. I postponed listening to the messages until after I had a drink of water to combat the extreme cottonmouth I was presently dealing with. As I listened to the messages, I discovered they were all from the disgruntled residents of Gurley. Accusations flew in the messages. Things like, "You fucker, you left your puke shirt in the yard and there's puke all over the chair and Fretty sat in it," were a few of the choice phrases used. This was all news to me. I had no idea I had puked last night, although I couldn't ignore the fact that I couldn't find the shirt I had on last night.

Desperate for answers, I went outside to see if my truck was in the driveway. If it was not there, I would have a good answer to how I got home. The truck was there. I had driven myself home blacked-out. There were now three things clear. One, I had thrown-up in the big chair at Gurley. Two, I had shed my puke clothes on the way out and driven myself home. And three, once home, I had drawn a bath, sat in it, and puked again.

I then tried to piece together how I got so drunk in the first place. I thought back to every moment the previous day I could remember. I came up with three phases of my drunkenness
that explained how I got that torn up and ended up in this situation.

1) Grilling out at Gurley:

Fretty had just purchased a nice grill and had put it in the Gurley cabana. We all went the H-E-B to buy beer and meat to cook. I picked up a steak and a case (20) of bottled Coors Light. We went back to Gurley and commenced to drink, smoke, and eat. The cookout soon turned into a party and the beers were going quicker and quicker.

2) Gurley Party:

I had torn through about fifteen bottled Coors lights and was feeling pretty damn good. The party was in full swing and we were running low on cigarettes. About 1:20 a.m., Kurt decides he wants to make a trip up to Scruff's for last call. Me being out of beer sealed my place for that trip.

3) Scruff's:

We arrived at Scruff's about 1:30 a.m. and head to the bar to order our customary Ziegen Bocks. I heard somebody call my name from across the bar. I looked over and saw an old high school buddy of mine standing there looking as trashed as I was. We talked for about 2 seconds before he asked if I wanted a shot. I, of course, said "yes" and he ordered up 2 jager shots( if any of you wonder why I don't like Jager shots, this incident is why) We did a couple of toasts and threw back the Jager with authority. I felt my stomach start to turn and knew I would throw-up if I didn't handle this correctly. I took a step back from the bar, took a deep breath, and fought back the steak and veggie pack I'd consumed earlier in the evening. I had just finished fighting off the barf when High School Friend brings me over another Jager shot. Another Jager shot and a Ziegen bock were bought and drank before the bar closed and we had to leave.


The trip home was getting fuzzy and I was beginning to black out. When we arrived back at Gurley, I sat down in the big chair and passed out. This is where I begin my epic blackout adventure.

I felt terrible about puking all over the big chair. The only thing I could think to do to bury the hatchet was to bring them a peace offering. I went Bush's and bought a gallon of sweet tea and took it over there.

The chair is still in use today and there's a little bit of Shep that will always be there.